


Disguises

by Ladyhawk_lhflu



Category: The X-Files, X - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Romance, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhawk_lhflu/pseuds/Ladyhawk_lhflu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Skinner go undercover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disguises

**Author's Note:**

> This is from 1999. It goes up first because it needed the least amount of editing.

"You want me to do what?!" Fox Mulder's eyes glare at me with hostility. I knew he wasn't going   
to take this well.

"Go undercover. With me." I know it isn't me he objects to. Maybe if I emphasize that I'll be   
there, he'll accept it.

No such luck. "As a male prostitute? God, you got to be kidding!" He swings away from me to   
stand in front of his partner, Dana Scully.

"Mulder, it is an X-file. You wanted to look into this." Scully looks up at him calmly. I think   
her persuasiveness is the only way he will go along with this. And I don't want him doing it the   
way he planned to. He could get himself killed.

The 302 that Mulder threw on my desk three days ago referred to the serial murders of ten male   
prostitutes in the San Francisco area. The strange thing about these murders is all the victims   
were found on in-flight airplanes out of San Francisco. When nobody ever saw them board the   
planes. And nobody ever saw them killed, which is hard to believe, considering the bodies were   
found in the last seat of the plane, naked and covered with blood. Their genitals were torn to   
shreds and their throats were slashed.

Mulder wanted to go into the San Francisco gay community and start asking questions. As soon as   
he mentioned it to me, I panicked. Working in vice many years ago gave me an appreciation for   
the quiet secrets these communities keep. His questioning could arouse the more violent members   
in these places and get him hurt or even killed. 

So I planned to help him with case. I consulted with the local offices in San Francisco and   
constructed a believable alias for both of us and obtained an apartment near where four of the   
victims lived.

And I consulted with Scully about how to broach the subject with Mulder. She shook her head when   
I asked her. "We'll just have to discuss it with him. He's not going to like it."

Her prediction was right on the mark. Mulder's agitation appears to grow as he paces my office.   
"I, I'm too old to be a hooker. . ."

"I covered that base in your cover story. You lost your job. You're out of money and teamed up   
with me, your. . .employer." I say this on a sigh.

"My pimp, you mean." His expression is blank. With Mulder this probably means he's about ready   
to deck me for even suggesting this type of investigation.

"Mulder, why are you so mad? It's just an investigation. It's not like you're going to have to   
sleep with anyone." Scully lays a hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

"Ahhhh." Mulder sits down next to Scully rather abruptly. "Will we be safe, Sir?"

"As safe as any other investigation you go on. The local offices have agreed to provide backup   
and contacts. We won't be alone out there. And you can stay in contact with Scully during the   
day, for background checks and progress reports."

He nods, apparantly calmed a little. "Ok, Sir. When do we leave?"

\-------------------------------------------------------

I look around the apartment the local Bureau got for us in dismay. It's dirty, small, and not at   
all any place I even want to temporarily call home. It doesn't make me feel any better that all   
the other apartments in the area are of the same quality.

I put my bag down in the bedroom. There's only one bedroom, but somehow they crammed two twin   
beds into it. I sit on the bed nearest the door and sigh. The fact that I may have to sleep   
within a couple feet of Mulder for the next few nights has me riddled with anxiety.

I should have thought this out better. How can I do this? How can I be this close to Mulder and   
not give myself away? I've been attracted to Mulder for years, but I've never shown it. I didn't   
want to interfere with any relationship he has with Scully. Any idiot can see that those two   
belong together. But now, I may jeopardize their relationship if I don't get my hormones under   
control. Just the idea of seeing Mulder dressed provocatively, as he will have to be during this   
case, has me uncomfortably aroused.

I watch Mulder come into the bedroom and put his bag on the second bed. "Where do we start?"

"Getting ourselves established. Vice planted a rumor that a new leader, myself, was coming to   
town from Chicago. Some of the leaders of the prostitution rings here have connections there, so   
it seemed a plausible lie. We need to make ourselves known. Hang out at some clubs, meet the big   
men. I can introduce you as my favorite employee." I smile slightly at his nervousness.

"I don't want to be fondled just because they're checking the merchandise. Touches mean a lot to   
me." He says this last part in a whisper, as if it isn't meant for my ears. So I ignore it.

"I'll do my best to keep the wolves at bay. But we have to look the part, Mulder." I try to   
convey my sympathy for his plight, but we're here to do a job.

"It's almost nine. Get dressed and let's try to make some contacts." I reach into my bag and   
pull out a turleneck and a suitjacket.

"And that's another thing. These clothes! Do they actually wear this stuff?" Mulder pulls out a   
pair of black leather pants from the bag given to him by the local Bureau. I can see just by   
looking at them that I won't be able to look at Mulder tonight, unless I want to be very   
uncomfortable.

"Afraid so." I move to the bathroom to let him dress in peace. I try to ignore the complaints I   
can hear coming from the other side of the door as I put on my disguise.

\-------------------------------------------------------

I'll say this for Mulder: Once he says his complaints, the man does his best to do what's   
required.

We walk into a dingy nightclub near the Wharf looking the part. I ask the bartender to find me   
the person whose name I'd been given, a Ronald Patz. 

"He expecting you?" The bartender eyes me with suspicion. 

"One of my associates in Chicago reccommended him. He told me that he'd call ahead for me. The   
name's Skinner." I calmly wait while the little man absorbs this information. 

"Back there." The bartender points to a corner of the room. I grab Mulder's arm posessively and   
drag him in the direction of the red haired man the bartender pointed to.

"Patz?"

"Yeah? Ah. You must be Skinner." The man looks me over carefully. At my nod, he gestures for us   
to sit opposite him. "What can I do for you?"

"Help me get established. I need sources, people, the usual. I'm willing to pay well for the   
help." I bring out the wad of bills I have hidden in my jacket, all marked, of course.

Patz stares at Mulder for a minute. "I'd be willing to help you for a free night with him." He   
smiles lavisciously.

"If I'm satisfied, I'll be more than happy to hand Fox over for a night."

"Fox? What an interesting name. You certainly live up to it." He undresses my agent with his   
eyes. "I'll be interested to see if you are as good as you look."

He turns back to me. "Ok, what exactly do you need? I want a piece of him ASAP."

I have a feeling I'm going to get decked when we get back to the apartment.

\-------------------------------------------------------

We get back to the apartment at 3 am after meeting all the 'employers' of the victims and having   
some security in our disguises. But Mulder is anything but pleased.

"Can't those sleazeballs keep their freaking hands to themselves? I feel like I was a horse at   
an auction." He strips off his clothes quickly, with no concern for my presence. Only when he   
grabs a pair of boxers does he look up at me. "Sorry. I'm not used to sharing a room."

I try to keep my admiration for him slim but muscular form off my face. He doesn't need another   
person making him feel like an object. But I can certainly see what those sleazeballs admire.

I close the shades as Mulder tucks himself into the small twin bed. His feet hang over the end   
of the bed. I wish I could send him to the living room couch. But that is even worse than the   
beds. It's too small and has springs protruding.

I lay on my bed, too agitated by my arousal in Mulder's presence to sleep. I stare at the   
ceiling, rather than interfere with Mulder's sleep by doing what I want. Staring at him would   
probably keep us both awake.

But I start wondering, when, ten minutes or so after I turn the lights off, his voice carries to   
my ears. "Skinner?"

I turn toward him in the darkness. "Yeah?"

"I wouldn't ever fuck any of those men we met tonight. They don't know the first thing about   
having a good time."

I'm silent, not sure how to answer him. Or what he's telling me.

His eyes flash in the darkness. "Thanks for not letting them get too rough. I was about to blow   
our cover a couple times when they got too fresh with me." He leans on the edge of his bed. My   
imagination wants to interprtet this as him wanting to reach out to me.

The next minute, I see his eye close. I get up to shift him a little on the bed so he doesn't   
fall.

It takes me hours to fall asleep because my imagination now has too much fuel. I fall asleep   
dreaming of comforting Mulder in a very intimate way.

\-------------------------------------------------------

"Who the hell sold you this apartment?! They should be shot!" Patz looks around our dingy little   
place in disgust.

"My associate told me to move to this neighborhood. He told me that I'd find everything I'd need   
here. When I couldn't find what I wanted, I decided to move here temporarily, to get my feet   
wet. I figured you'd be able to help us find a better place."

"So Fox lives with you?" His eyes reflect disappointment as he runs his hand over the shoulder   
of the person in question.

"Yes. I consider him. . .a piece of art that I share with only those I choose." I step near Patz   
and the seated Mulder. I gesture to Mulder, who responds on cue and moves to be petted by me,   
like a beloved cat.

"I can see why. But to business. Let's get you moved over to my spare apartment on High Street.   
Then we can talk about getting you some employees."

"We didn't bring much with us. I was low on funds when I left Chicago. That's one of the reasons   
I left. I needed. . .greener pastures." I school my face into a mask of disgust, as if I had   
become bitter about that fictional time.

"Oh, I understand, certainly. And since I will be working with you, as show of good faith, I   
will set you up with whatever you need until you get settled. For both of you."

"Thank you. And as a show of my good faith, let me give you a gift this evening." I look down at   
Mulder, who nods. His plan is set.

"Go on, Fox. You are to obey Ron for the night. We need to thank him for geting out of this   
cramped place." I push him toward Patz and try not to cringe as the sleaze grabs onto Mulder and   
pulls him in for a kiss.

Mulder's a better actor than I have given him credit for in the past. He actually looks   
enthusiastic when he responds to Patz' kiss. I hide my jealousy behind an approving smile in   
their direction.

Patz looks eager to start his 'entertainment.' "Let me send some guys over to help you, Skinner.   
I'll take good care of Fox for you."

"See that you do." I put just a hint of a threat in my voice.

Once Patz turns toward the door, I send a questioning glance toward Mulder. I try to keep my   
nervousness and fear for his safety from showing on my face. He is a good agent. He can handle   
himself. I hope.

He nods at me. Then turns to walk with Patz out the door.

\-------------------------------------------------------

I let Patz' helpers in about 30 minutes after he leaves with Mulder. They are a rough looking   
bunch, but they follow my directions respectfully and without question, even though we have only   
a couple bags to move.

When we get to Patz' spare apartment, I feel like I'm looking at the royal suite. Plush beige   
carpeting covers all the floor space I see. Gleaming hardwood furniture and plush upholstry show   
that my 'associate' has a lot of money to throw around.

After the guys stick our bags in the bedroom, Greg, the leader, pulls me aside. "Mr. Falk wants   
to meet you at 10 to talk. He said he'd come here. He wants to offer you some employees, for a   
price."

I nod my head and look as if I'm eager to get my business started. The men walk out of the   
apartment right before I fall onto the couch with a sigh.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Paul Falk is an astute businessman with an eye for detail. He lost two of his employees to the   
killer, but seems to have taken the loss in stride. Luckily, he's not afraid to discussing the   
murders with me, presumably to caution me.

"Don't let your boys go anywhere near the airport. All of the boys who died were at houses not   
more than five miles from there. And watch out for a green van. I talked to the others, and they   
said at least half of the boys were picked up by someone in a green van."

"So I should check out whomever the boys choose?" 

"Yeah. Not too obviously though. It makes the customers nervous. Walk by, hide in a store,   
something like that. It's usually good to try to get your boys set up all around the same time   
so you can have the rest of the night to do other things."

"Anything else I need to watch out for? I mean, I would be very upset if Fox got hurt." It's not   
hard for me to school my face in to one of possessiveness.

"I could see last night that you're really attached to him. You may want to be really careful   
about him. I'm sure we could make sure he stays busy."

A perfect idea to get the information from the leaders. I just hope Mulder can handle it. "Sure,   
ok. But because he's special, it's going to cost."

"Not a problem. Now let's see which of my group you might want and what price we can negotiate."

By 11:30, we were laughing and drinking beers. Falk had given me three of his younger boys for a   
small fortune, payable within the next three months.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Mulder comes into the apartment at 1 am, limping slightly. I notice this right away from my view   
on the couch and rush over to help him in.

"What happened?" I wrap my arm around his waist and help him to the couch.

"Patz likes to play rough. And it took a little longer than I expected for the sedative to   
work." He eases onto the couch with a sigh as I kneel at his feet.

"Where does it hurt?"

"My knee. I think I twisted it when I fought him to keep him from tying me up. I had just given   
him the sedative in his drink." He grimaces as I move his leg experimentally.

"Let me get some ice." I go to the kitchen and come back with a plastic bag filled with ice.

"You didn't.. . ?" He was gone awfully long. I want to make sure he doesn't need any other kind   
of attention.

"No, I just stayed long enough for him to wake up a bit from the sedative and convince him he   
was one of the best lovers I've ever had. And to talk about the murders."

"Did he know anything?" I sit at his feet and stretch his leg out to the coffee table carefully.   
I hold the icepack to his knee. He looks at me puzzled.

But he continures to talk. "He said something about a green van, and something about a man in a   
black trenchcoat. He gave me a name of someone to avoid. A Rico, Enrico, something like that."

"No last name?" I see he's uncomfortable with me sitting at his feet, so I get up and stretch.

"No, just a description. Tall, dark, with a scar on the back of his left hand. I'll have Scully   
check it out when we get up."

"Do you want to sleep here or on the bed? There's only one bedroom here." For all the richness   
of the apartment, you'd think it would have a second bedroom. No such luck.

"I'll stay here, if you don't mind, Sir. I'm used to sleeping on a couch and this one is   
actually comfortable."

"Ok." I grab a blanket from the closet and hand it to him. My hand rests on his shoulder for a   
moment, almost without my knowing. He smiles up at me.

"I'll be ok. Get some rest." He pats my hand lightly, making it tingle.

The living room isn't far enough away from me to not be aware of his presence. My sleep is   
fitful.

\-------------------------------------------------------

The next night, I drag Mulder along to a meeting of all the pimps. I know that my 'bought' boys   
would be there, so I figured he could gather information from them while I pumped the leaders.

We arrive at the back of a nightclub to find all of the pimps sitting at a table drinking beers.

"Ah, Skinner, welcome." Falk ushers me to a chair. He then turns to Mulder. "Fox, why don't you   
talk with the others over there." He waves in the direction of the bar.

As we agreed, to prove my posessiveness to the others and perhaps keep them from harrassing   
Mulder, I grab his shirt and pull him down for a brief, hard kiss. "No taking offers unless I   
approve. Not with this killer on the loose."

We are having Scully try to track down any information on this 'Enrico', but so far we haven't   
had any luck. I am fervently hoping now that Patz' description of him was relatively accurate. I   
don't want Mulder hurt.

But then again, I know Mulder. If he recognizes the man, he would be more likely to pursue than   
avoid him, even without backup.

"Yes, Sir." Mulder's eyes are confused as he gazes back at me. But he turns and heads toward the   
bar before I can ask him what's wrong.

I turn my attention back to the assembled group and try to pay attention to their ramblings.

About an hour later, a shout comes from the bar. I stand straight up at the sound. It sounded   
like Mulder.

All of the assembled men look nervous as I scan their faces then move toward the bar. Cowards. I   
find Mulder in an argument with a large and broad man. 

"He won't take no for an answer, Sir. I told him I would need your approval." Mulder is shaking   
slightly.

I put my hands on his shoulders. "Did he hurt you?" I glare at the man menacingly.

"No. He just grabbed me."

I turn to the man in question. "I don't give up this one often. But you are welcome to any of   
the others here."

I pull Mulder against my chest instinctively to calm his trembling. Surprisingly enough, he   
relaxes against me.

The tall man nods his head and gestures to one of 'my' boys. Andy, I think. The boy looks toward   
me, and with a nod, I send him on his way.

I bring Mulder with me to the back. "Gentleman, I think we are going to leave. If you would be   
so kind as to set my boys up for the night?" I look pointedly at Falk.

"Of course. In return, may I request a night with Fox? Tomorrow perhaps?"

"Of course. Thank you." I get Mulder out of there before any more trouble can be found.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Mulder looks much better as we walk into the apartment. "Sorry, I'm not used to that. I didn't   
know how to handle it without blowing our cover."

Oh, so the trembling was all an act? I can't help but feel mild disappointment at this   
revelation. I'd like to be needed by Mulder.

"Thanks for rescuing me." He smiles at me before he heads to the kitchen.

"You're welcome."

He squeezes my shoulder slightly and offers me an apple as he wanders back to the living room. I   
am glad to see that his limp is almost gone.

He plops down on the couch and turns on the TV. I watch him as I bite into the apple. His   
features brand themselves on my brain. I love to see him relaxed. He has had such a tough   
existence up to now. I like to know that he does find some time for the simpler things.

I sit down in the armchair near me and pull a file out of my briefcase on the floor. I must have   
been working on it for about a half-hour when I feel eyes focused on me.

I look up to see Mulder watching me with an almost affectionate expression. I gaze at him   
questioningly.

He blushes, but doesn't turn away. In fact, he gets more bold. "So, Sir. Why didn't you tell me   
you were bisexual?"

God, I should have known better than to hide something like that from the inquisitive man in   
front of me. Where did I slip up?

"I, I" I can't think of what to say. I don't want to slip up again and reveal my attraction to   
him.

He smiles at me slightly. "It was the way you held me before. You seemed comfortable, even   
holding a man as big as me." Trust Mulder to glean a truth from an action that inconsequential.   
"Don't let it bother you, sir. So am I."

As much as my heart leaps at ths bit of information, my mind groans. That is just going to make   
this case just that much more complicated.

I can already feel myself getting hard as I watch him get up to head for the shower. I pray this   
case ends soon. I don't want Mulder charging me with harrassment.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, after Mulder comes back from his shower, I find a way to question him about his meeting   
with 'my' guys. I have to look away from Mulder most of the time to keep my composure and   
professionalism.

Mulder, ever observant, looks puzzled at my problem. But he answers my questions without   
hesitation. "They don't really know much, but they are scared. They've seen the guy named Rico,   
though. He is a friend of Patz'."

"What do they know about him?" Here's a new twist.

"Not much. He frequents the bar Patz owns. Rico often watches the prostitutes in the bar, but   
never takes any of them. Never offers them money. The guys find him creepy, according to Andy.   
He never talks to anyone, not even Patz. He just stares at the guys until they leave with   
someone. Or until the bar closes."

"Do you know if he was at the bars the nights of the murders?" It looks like we might be onto   
something, if I interpret Mulder's sudden expression of excitement correctly.

"Those nights he left early, Chance said. He left about 10 pm each time. The bodies were found   
on the red-eye flights, between 10:30 and midnight each time." 

"Was anyone able to determine a time of death for the victims?" I know Scully had been looking   
over the reports. 

"Scully says all were done within about two hours of being found. That certainly could make Rico   
a suspect."

"Where were the victims when Rico left the bar? Do the guys know?" 

"None of them were in the bar. That's all they seemed to know about their whereabouts." Mulder   
yawns after his last sentence.

I smile at him, still a bit uncomfortable with all that has transpired today. "Why don't you get   
some sleep and call Scully when you get up? The only thing that doesn't match up is how he and   
the victim get to the airport so quickly. Maybe Scully will have some ideas." I get up and   
stretch.

"Ok. Sleep well." Mulder's smile is mystifying as he says this. I don't want to try to interpret   
it. I have too much to lose if I'm wrong.

So I go to the bedroom and study the information we have so far. I see the sun come up before my   
eyes fall shut.

\-------------------------------------------------------

We head over to Patz' bar the next night at about 9 pm. It is a very busy place, with many   
people milling around. When we get there, Rico is sitting at the bar, gazing at Andy, one of   
'my' boys. Andy is trying to curl up into the corner wall, presumably to hide from Rico's gaze. 

When Mulder and I walk past Rico, he startles and turns his attention to Mulder. I watch his   
frank appraisal out of the corner of my eye. The man almost looks angry as he watches Mulder. 

I mouth a question, asking if Mulder wants me nearby to help watch our suspect. In return, he   
kisses me, acting again, and says he wants to spend sometime with the guys. I assume this means   
he will be ok. I hope he's armed. My gun rests heavy on my hip as I walk to the back, where the   
pimps are chatting.

My mind is preoccupied as I turn to them. I glance back up front throughout the night, but Rico   
doesn't move the entire night. He just continues to watch Mulder. During the night, all of the   
boys except Mulder are given offers. It seems as if Rico's gaze is a curse.

The next night, we return to the bar. I tell Mulder that I want to observe Rico for one more   
night before we act. He nods distractedly as we walk up to the bar. 

Rico is there as we walk in and sets his sights on Mulder immediately. I'm distracted for about   
15 minutes in the back by Falk, who wants to negotiate territories of operation.

When I turn back toward the front, I see Rico, but Mulder is gone! And I watch in horror as Rico   
gets up to leave. A glance at the clock tells me it's 10 pm.

I freeze momentarily in fear, but then I rush outside to see Mulder and Rico talking at the   
corner. Mulder is shaking his head at the mysterious man. I walk up behind Rico until I am in   
ear shot.

"I can't. He doesn't let me go without me asking his permission. He wants to have complete say   
over whoever I'm with." Mulder does a great act of looking nervous, as if he's afraid of getting   
caught by me.

"Are you so controlled by him that you won't take a chance and try something different?" Rico's   
voice is raspy and I see him lean forward, as if to grab Mulder.

Just as he does, I say loudly, "Fox, there you are." I get close enough to the pair to grab Rico   
if I need to. As I do, I see Mulder's hand move away from his back. At least he wasn't foolish   
enough to come out here with the suspect unarmed. Coming out with no backup was too much risk to   
begin with.

My look of anger at Mulder is not fake at all. I'd like to think that his look of chagrin isn't   
an act either. I want to lash out at him for not letting me know where he was. I can't stomach   
the though that if I hadn't noticed he was gone. . .

I calmly look at Rico. "Sir, I'd like to take my boy with me tonight, but if you like, we can   
arrange for another time?"

"I'd like that. Say, tomorrow?" Rico leers at Mulder, who looks uncomfortable at the attention.

"Fine. I will have him wait out here for you?"

Rico nods. "At 10 o'clock please." He walks away without another word.

I turn to Mulder, still furious. "What the hell do you think you were doing, being out here with   
him without any backup?!"

He can't get a word in because I am shaking him. My fear has gotten the better of me. 

Suddenly, all the emotions I've dealt with lately grab hold of me and I pull Mulder toward me.   
My mouth grabs his in a fiery kiss.

Before I even realize what I've done, he leans into me and kisses me back with the same   
intensity. We pull apart, breathless. His hands clutch my arms.

"If that's what it takes to get you to react, why haven't you jumped me in the office?" Mulder   
smiles and pulls me down the street.

"I think we gathered enough information for one day, don't you?"

Feeling like I've been hit by a brick, I don't even hear the "Definitely." that comes out of my   
mouth as I follow him, clutching his hand.

\-------------------------------------------------------

I feel so dazed when we get back to the apartment. Mulder practically had to pull me by the   
hand the whole way. And I let him, without a complaint.

It isn't that I don't want to go with him. It's that my brain has shut down. I can't think. I   
can only feel the lingering traces of Mulder's kiss. My body demands more. And my mind isn't   
going to disagree.

But once the door of the apartment is shut by my incorrible agent, my wits start to come back.   
What am I doing here? This could-- "Mulder, we can't do this. . ."

But then he kisses me again, stopping my words, my thoughts. All my arguments against his   
actions fly out the window. My body takes over. I kiss him back fiercely. Before I know it, we   
are draped across the couch with me on my back. Mulder is above me, drowning me with his lips,   
the feel of his body. I groan as the sensations overwhelm me. I can't think. I only react. I   
start pulling at his clothes, wanting them gone.

"Here." Mulder pulls the tight t-shirt over his head when he sees that I'm having trouble just   
finding the hem. I caress his chest in broad strokes as he unbuttons my dress shirt and untucks   
it from my pants. He then pulls me up from the couch and starts undressing me as I watch. Mulder   
kneeling at my feet is a hell of a sight to behold. I shiver in delight just from that. Mulder's   
muscled back, his dark head bends toward my midsection as he frees my erection from my pants.

But the feelings he produces in me make me moan loudly. He wraps his hand around my cock,   
squeezing gently. His hot mouth lowers itself slowly, swallowing my length. I almost lose my   
balance from the sparks that shoot through me once I am completely taken into his mouth. He has   
to grab my buttocks to keep me upright. Not that I mind. His hands massage my muscles there, and   
bring a warm tingling.

But after a few minutes of his attention, the sensations are too much. I stumble slightly when I   
move a little to regain my balance. And I groan as Mulder pulls back from me. 

"Let's move to a safer place before you fall." Sure. Heck, I would follow him if he said 'Let's   
go to hell.'

As Mulder pulls me toward the bedroom I absently wonder why I almost fell. I'm not usually so   
affected by anyone. What has Mulder done to me?

The next minute, I forget my uneasiness as he backs me against the edge of the bed and pushes me   
onto it. I welcome his hot kisses and clutch him to me. My body arches involuntarily as he moves   
with little bites down my chest and lower. "Oh God, Mulder!"

He laughs and then swallows my erection again. His mouth moves up and down on me slowly,   
dragging sounds out of me that I didn't know I could make.

But when he speeds up, my body reacts as if he hit me with a bolt of lightning. I jerk up,   
meeting his mouth as it comes down. The pleasure is almost painful before my body finally   
releases it. I look down after my explosion to see him swallowing deeply, taking me into   
himself.

But as I watch him, my mind begins to kick in. What have I done? With my subordinate?! I jerk   
away as he pulls his mouth away from my sagging penis.

"What?" Mulder looks at me with startled eyes.

"Mulder, what we just did was--wrong. I'm your boss and--" I get off the bed and practically run   
to the living room to get my clothes.

"I thought. . ." I see Mulder following me as I pull on my underwear.

"It, it's not your fault. I lost my head. I should have stopped you." I look at the clock.   
Midnight. I can go back to Patz' bar and snoop around a little more. That should get my mind off   
Mulder and my growing attraction toward him. I can't handle him. I know I can't let my emotions   
run rampant. I already want to hold him forever. That will destroy our careers, Mulder's quest,   
his relationship with Scully. My head spins with the implications as I finish dressing.

I grab my sportcoat and practically run out the door. But not before I see the hurt look on   
Mulder's face.

\--------------------------------------------------------

I avoid talking to Mulder until 9 pm the next night. Until he is wired and armed for his meeting   
with Rico. What am I supposed to tell him? Yes, it was the best sex of my life, but I'm afraid   
I'll destroy you and all you've worked for? I want to hold you forever but I might as well hold   
a gun to your head while I do it?

I can't. I can't hurt him more. So I don't say anything.

But he won't let me remain silent as we walk to the bar. 

"So I was that bad, huh?" Mulder's expression is bitter, self-depreciating.

I groan inwardly. I can't let him beat himself up for what was essentially my mistake. "No,   
Mulder. It was great. But I can't. . ." I trip over the curb a bit as I try to find the right   
words.

Mulder grabs my arm and pulls me back on balance. "Just tell me the truth, Skinner. I just am   
not worth your effort."

It's not that, Mulder--" I want to say more, but we're already standing in front of the bar. I   
look toward Mulder, trying to decide if I should pull him aside and talk to him about it. I   
don't want him angry at me while we are working together. But he's already opening the door.

I follow him in to see Rico waiting. I nod to the man as I head toward the back. I silently wish   
my agent luck as I leave them behind to meet the employers. I wish I could kiss Mulder. To   
assure him I want him back alive. But I don't dare. It would destroy me.

\--------------------------------------------------------

I watch Mulder leave with Rico at 10 pm, after they talked for awhile sporadically. They never   
seemed deep in conversation from my viewpoint. But still, Rico seemed to want to stay here until   
10.

But at the stroke of 10, Rico pulls Mulder out of the bar. My cellphone rings as they leave the   
bar. The lookouts can see Rico putting Mulder into a green van.

I excuse myself at that point, telling the pimps I have plans to make and meet the lookouts in   
front of the apartment.

I climb into the grey, nondescript van and introduce myself to the agents inside. Agents Clark   
and Werner shake my hand. Then we get down to business.

Rico drives to a house about two miles from the airport. It's a small house, just one floor. We   
figure this out by tracking Mulder's homing beacon.

When Rico parks, we can hear Mulder complain as he pulls him out of the van and toward the   
house. 

Rico tells him to shut up and all we hear for a few minutes after that is the clink of metal and   
a door squeaking.

Then suddenly, Mulder yells. "No, what are you doing! Don't!"

Then all we hear is static.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Thankfully, Clark is efficient and has the van started before the static has gone on for more   
than two seconds.

We race to the house. I keep listening to Mulder's receiver on the way there, but I hear only   
white noise.

We jump out of our van and race to the door of the dingy looking house. I break it open after   
making sure the agents are ready.

Inside, the house is vacant. There's not a piece of furniture anywhere. Just some disturbed dust   
on the floor. I can see the footprints of the two men leading to what would be the livingroom. I   
follow them until they end in the middle of the room. I look around me, but I see no sign of my   
agent or our suspect.

And there are no other marks in the dust.

Where did they go? 

I'm not really sure. But I have this aching suspicion that we better head for the airport. Fast.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Goddamnit Mulder, where are you? My mind races as I storm out of the empty house with the two   
local agents at my heels. I yell orders at the unfortunate pair as Clark speeds to the airport   
and Werner calls the field office to stop all planes departing within the next hour.

And the events of the last 24 hours come back to haunt me. I had sex with him. That means that   
my view about him is clouded, according to the Bureau's reasoning on fellow agents dating.

Ah, hell Walter, admit it. It went beyond sex. What other reason would there be for being blown   
away just by the look in his eyes? That's never happened to me before, not even with Sharon.

And I can't even tell myself that I don't know Mulder well enough to be feeling this way so   
quickly. I've known this man for six years. Six years of differing theories, of arguments, of   
sneaking behind each other's back and getting caught, of discovering we essentially want the   
same thing, no matter how different out points of view. Of getting to know each other.

I like what I found out about Mulder. He is a noble man, with high ideals. Just not the same   
ideals as everyone else. He is one of the few people in the world who actually believes in the   
power of truth. And the difference in viewpoint translates to differences in actions. I let   
Scully and him do their own thing because standard methods often cover up what they are trying   
to find.

My physical attraction has been coupled with a mental attraction for years. I can finally see   
that. He makes me think and wonder. He has shown me parts of myself I've never seen before. And   
he does it just by being himself, and letting me watch. I'd like to watch him for the rest of my   
life. Suddenly, my thoughts are telling me that my career can go to hell.

But I know I should really leave Mulder in Scully's hands. She is better for him. She knows how   
to fight his moods, to keep him stable. And she makes him happy. That, in itself, is reason   
enough to leave Mulder alone. His happiness is paramount in my mind. 

My feelings are real and very much a part of me. Although I acknowledge their meaning, I can't   
verbalize them to anyone, not even myself. But I know they are there.

I do my best to bury them at the moment. I won't do Mulder any good right now if I let my   
emotions take over my skills as a Bureau employee. I need to be clearheaded and observant, or   
else I could lose him. I take a deep breath and try to concentrate on the facts of the case.

By the time we arrive at the airport, my face is a mask of determination. We will find Agent   
Mulder. Alive.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Isolating an airport is no mean feat, but the San Francisco agents are efficient, and are able   
to accomplish their task with the minimum problems. Now comes the hard part: finding the suspect   
and Mulder. 

I have most of the agents and security comb the terminals, but I doubt Rico and Mulder are in   
the buildings. So I have the ASACs use their best agents to search the planes connected to the   
terminals. I head the search with Clark and Werner.

At about 11:30, one of the ASACs calls me over to a large plane bound for New York. "In the   
back, Sir. I heard noises."

I nod and draw my gun before we head into the plane and down the middle aisle. Sounds of   
struggle come from the direction in which we are headed. Then a voice. "No!"

My heart jumps into my throat. There is no mistaking the scared voice of my favored agent. I   
speed up my steps.

I still don't see anything when we reach the back. Until I notice the restroom door moving.

I motion to the agents until they have the escape routes blocked. Then I take a deep breath.

"Rico, I know you're in there. Come out." I'm hoping he recognizes my voice, and the shock buys   
us some time.

"Skinner?!" The door opens a crack. The nearest agent pulls it open the rest of the way quickly.   
The sight revealed to me scares the hell out of me. 

Mulder stands there, naked and bleeding slightly from the neck. He is struggling against Rico,   
who is restraining him and holding the knife that just made that wound in Mulder's neck. And the   
knife is moving south. It stops right below his abdomen.

That's when I spring into action. I grab at the knife as it just begins to draw Mulder's blood,   
cutting my hand. Somehow I yank it away from Rico and pull Mulder out of the impossibly cramped   
restroom at the same time.

Then, suddenly, Rico disappears. 

He doesn't run past us, or hide behind anything. I stare at him the whole time. One second he's   
there. The next second he winks out of existence, disappears, vanishes, as if he were David   
Copperfield and I was looking into a TV.

The agents near me blink for several seconds, then scatter around the plane, looking for Rico.

I grab Mulder and shed my sportcoat. He takes it as I offer, and puts it on as I wind a   
handkerchief around my hand.

"He's not here." Mulder's voice is a whisper, as if Rico crushed his windpipe a bit.

I grab at his arm, concerned. But he shrugs me off. "I'm ok, Skinner." He sits in one of the   
seats, as if to gather his strength.

"Rico isn't here. He's probably back at the empty house by now. It doesn't take long to travel   
the way he does it."

I lean against a seat and face him. I can feel a sense of dread. I know whatever Mulder says is   
going to bother me. But I have to ask him. "How did he get you here? And how did he disappear?"

Mulder looks at me with tired eyes. "Psychic teleportation. Tell the agents to lock him   
somewhere lined with lead. If they can hold him long enough to get him there."

He gets up slowly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Sir, I'd like to get checked out. My whole left   
side hurts." He walks toward the entrance of the plane, limping.

I gather my courage. I don't want to lose him by my own inaction. "Mulder, can we talk later?"

He stops and looks back. "We don't have anything to talk about, Sir. You made a choice. Your   
career comes first. I respect that." I regret my words with a passion, now that I realize what   
Mulder means to me.

He looks at me steadily for a moment, then turns away and continues walking. I follow him with   
my eyes until he exits the plane, wishing I knew what to say to bring him back.

\--------------------------------------------------------

I go back to the apartment to pack my things. This investigation should be over soon. And I want   
to leave San Francisco and get back to Crystal City quickly. To regain my equilibrium. To try to   
return to the past.

And they think Mulder tries to do the impossible.

I'm not really surprised to find the apartment empty when I get there. Mulder sounded as if he   
didn't want to talk to me on the plane. He actually sounded upset that I negated our earlier   
encounter. But what about Scully?

My tired brain struggles to make the connections that I couldn't make last night as I search the   
bedroom for my things. I did not force Mulder, he came quite willingly. In fact, he did most of   
the work. 

Since Mulder's loyalty to Scully in other areas is legendary, I am forced to admit that my use   
of this explanation is nothing more than a way to hide my fear of being rejected by him.

So I did the rejecting. Real smart, Walter. As the cliche goes, you always hurt the ones you   
love, don't you?

I sit on the bed, exhausted and dismayed by my actions. What am I going to do? My hands cover my   
face for a minute. But then I hear a noise in the living room.

"Mulder?" I move toward the door so my voice carries.

A second later, a dark form hurls itself at me. I have no time to reach for my gun, or try to   
defend myself other than to flail against the form. But it grabs me tightly.

"Oh, you thought you had me, didn't you, Skinner?" Rico! Damn, no wonder I didn't hear the door   
open. I barely acknowledge that Mulder was right. That's less important than my survival at the   
present.

"What do you want, Rico?" God, does this psychic ability give him superhuman strength too? I   
can't budge from his hold.

"I want you and your kind off the face of the earth, to fly to hell." What the hell is he taking   
about, my kind? FBI agents?

Then it dawns on me as his words fill my head. "You goddamn queers, you took over my town! I   
want you gone, out of here!"

Rico fumbles between my body and his. I assume he's trying to get his knife. I try to take   
advantage of his distraction. I get as far as falling to the floor before he pins me under his   
feet and the knife. I feel the bite of the knife at my throat.

I'm almost positive I will die in the next few seconds. But strangely enough, Rico moves the   
knife. He straddles my hips and unzips his jeans almost casually. He moves his cock out of his   
underwear and fondles it absently.

I watch this with growing fear. I renew my struggle to get away from him. But he has me   
completely pinned.

"Do you want this, Skinner? Isn't it what all you perverts want?" He slashes at my shirt with   
the knife, cutting me slightly. He nicks my wrist as I struggle to grab the knife from him. The   
blood flows down my arm in rivers. Maybe it was more than a nick. I start to feel queasy.

I resign myself to my death as I see Rico's knife head for my throat again. I'm at my end, and   
what do I have to show for it? A job I did well, but not spectacularly. I never took enough   
risks though. I had enough chances. I'll never be able to fix that. I'll never help find the   
truth. And I'll never be able to apologize to Mulder. . .

Just as the knife meets my throat, a voice carries to my ears. "Rico, it's over! Move away from   
Skinner!"

"Not until he is dead! And then you are next." I feel pain and blood flowing across my neck.

All of a sudden, a shoe grazes lightly over my neck and the pain abates a little. The knife is   
kicked away. Rico is pulled from me by a couple of forms. Another form kneels by my head.

"Hey." I move my head to see Mulder gazing down at me. "The paramedics are on their way. Don't   
move."

I strain through fatigue and the pain in my neck to find my voice. "What about Rico?" A whisper   
is all I get.

"We raided a hospital and commandeered some X-ray vests, which have lead in them. He's wearing   
one now. He shouldn't be able to teleport now."

The paramedics arrive and Mulder moves to give them room. But not before he squeezes my   
uninjured hand. "We'll talk soon, Walter, ok?"

His eyes watch everything the paramedics do before they take me away. As if he's guarding me.

\--------------------------------------------------------

That afternoon, I wake in the hospital to find Mulder sitting next to my bed. He smiles as I   
turn to face him.

"Hi."

"Hi, Mulder." My voice is rusty from sleep, but my neck wasn't punctured. And the pain isn't   
terrible. So I continue. "Are we wrapped up?"

"Yeah. We have a solid case against Rico. And he isn't going anywhere. We found a cell with old   
lead pipes running through the walls."

I nod, suddenly not wanting to talk about the case anymore. But I don't know what to say next.

My nervousness must show on my face because Mulder cocks his head a bit and looks puzzled. "You   
look like you are getting ready to ask a girl to the prom. What's wrong?"

"Mulder, I--I'm sorry about that night. I shouldn't have run away from you."

"But you were right. What we did could destroy your career if anyone found out. If I was in your   
position. . ."

"Mulder--" I grab his hand. "My job can go to hell for all I care. I'd really like to continue   
what we started. . .?"

"What did we start?"

"A relationship? I know sex isn't a good foundation for a new friendship, but I think we should   
be able to work it out."

Mulder smiles slightly. "I'd like that. But for now, you need your rest. You lost a bit of blood   
before we got Rico off you. We can talk about this on the flight back to DC."

He gets up and stands above me. "I have to finish up the paperwork. I'll be by to pick you up   
tomorrow morning."

He touches my hand lightly, then leaves me. I smile as I see him gaze back at me once before   
turning the corner and out of my sight. We can make this work.

Fox Mulder wants this relationship with me, I saw it in his eyes. And what Mulder wants, Mulder   
gets, no matter what the cost. However, this time there won't be costs, just rewards.

\--------------------------------------------------------

The next few weeks are quiet ones for the X-files. Mulder and Scully spend most of their days   
buried in the basement with research material. Only two or three 302s actually come my way.

Mulder and I take advantage of this downtime to get to know each other. We spend time on the   
basketball courts trying each other's endurance, at diners late at night talking, running and   
swimming together at the Bureau's facilities, and flopping down in front of one of our TVs on   
the occasional night.

I'm amazed at what I learn from him. He is a very emotional and confusing man. He will try my   
patience one minute and try to protect me the next. He is fiercely loyal. And tactile. I find   
him touching me at odd moments. Nothing sexual, just making contact. But the touches are a   
comfort and slightly arousing nonetheless. 

He brings out the more playful side of me, I've found. I laugh and joke more in his presence   
than I ever did before. And I love it. 

And I'm finding myself falling more in love with him. . .

It's a beautiful spring evening when we walk back to my apartment from a late game of one-on-one   
basketball when I am startled by the look on Mulder's face.

"What's wrong?" He looks worried. Did I do something wrong?

"Walter, are, are you attracted to me?" He looks away from me as he asks.

"I thought that was obvious, Mulder. I'm here with you."

"Well, you have barely touched me in three weeks. I wasn't sure." 

I am opening the apartment door as he says this. I usher him through, then close the door behind   
me. Once the door shuts, I grab Mulder by the neck and pull him into a fiery kiss. 

When we pull apart to breathe, I smile gently at him. "I wanted to get to know you before we   
continued where we left off in San Francisco. I wanted to do this right."

"It's just me, Walter. I can take anything." Mulder looks amazed that I would care so much.

"You are the reason I wanted to do this right, Mulder. You mean a lot to me. I wanted to show   
you me." I pull him against me. 

"I like what you've shown me, Walter. I think I'm ready to move onto the next step." He pulls my   
hips against his. I can feel his erection through our jeans. I want to see it.

I kiss him lingeringly as I pull off his shirt. His chest invites my lips to lick and nibble. I   
do that and more as he moans and whimpers.

I unfasten his jeans and slide them down so he can step out of them. Judging by his erection   
and his response to me so far, this is going to be quick. Not that I mind. I want him to enjoy   
this.

"I waited for you--" No wonder he's on a hair trigger. From what I gather from the past, he's   
known for his porn collection. Which usually means there is regular masturbation.

I smile at him. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. I wanted you to know. . ."

"Know what, Mulder?" But I think he's at a loss for for words as I pull his boxers down and   
grasp his erection. So I let him concentrate on the sensations.

I lick at the tip, and feel him jerk, hard. I don't waste any time. I take him into my mouth   
completely, and find a rhythm that quickly has him exploding down my throat.

I swear I hear him say something as he comes. I ask him after he catches his breath. "Did you   
say something, Mulder?"

He pulls me to my feet, and wraps his arms around my still-clothed form. "I love you, Walter."

And with that, all the disguises I use to fool myself and keep Mulder at a distance fall away   
from me. What's left is pure light. "I love you too, Mulder."

Our kiss is mindboggling. And by the time it's over, my clothes are at our feet. And Mulder is   
pulling me to my bedroom two seconds later.

We don't come out until the afternoon sun greets us the next day.


End file.
